


have a real good time

by ClassyFangirl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No kaiju, M/M, Prostitution, Riding, Talking During Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassyFangirl/pseuds/ClassyFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt works the streets around MIT, where Hermann Gottlieb, a guest lecturer, meets and hires him. Or: Newt is totally Julia Roberts and Hermann is a grumpy Richard Gere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	have a real good time

**Author's Note:**

> For an anonymous prompter on tumblr! Hope you enjoy, friend.

Newt’s not an idiot. He’s not an idiot in a _thousand_ different ways, and despite appearances, he’s got some semblance of street smarts, which is why he works so close to MIT. The guys he picks up are desperate nerds (like him) who want a quick fuck or a handjob and are willing to pay for it. It’s a pretty safe neighborhood, generally- he even waves at the campus police officers, who have yet to catch on because Newt, admittedly, does not look like a hooker. Truth be told, people only know about his “business” through word of mouth.

So he’s pretty surprised whenever he sees a new face, especially Mr. Tall and Scowl-y here. Newt would be worried the guy’s a cop if he weren’t so jittery.

“So you got a motel room picked out, buddy?” Newt asks.

“Hotel,” he corrects. “The, ah- the university has put me up in a hotel for the duration of my visit. Though I’m afraid it’s rather far from here.”

Newt raises his eyebrows. This guy’s _maybe_ a year older than him (though the clothes don’t show it) and the school has him as a visitor? “Well, all right. We can take a cab! But it’s coming outta your pocket.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.”

Mr. Scowl’s hotel turns out to be a fucking _palace_ in Copley Square. The lobby _alone_ is nicer than everywhere Newt’s lived in the last ten years, and his room- Jesus Christ, his room. Newt collapses onto his bed the moment he enters.

“Dude. Apparently you are the _king_ of academia.” Newt rolls onto his stomach and grins at Scowl. “I mean it. MIT doesn’t give the nice beds to losers.”

“Yes, well.” Scowl smiles a little bit, and his cheeks go pink, and _shit,_ he’s adorable. Newt’s gonna have fun with this one. “I’m...giving a lecture series on mathematics and theories about artificial intelligence.”

“Hot.”

The frown returns and he starts tapping the base of his cane impatiently. “Well, there’s no need to get sarcastic.”

Newt laughs. “No, dude, no! Legit, hot. I love brainy guys. Talk nerdy to me, handsome.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Though, quick warning, sarcasm’s gonna be big if you know me too long. So, uh, sorry in advance.”

“Oh. Well, ah- I have particular interest in astrophysics, and, and how it relates to space travel, especially shortened interstellar flights-”

Newt pauses in undressing. “Gottlieb.”

The man freezes. “I’m- I’m sorry?”

“I remember you, man! I read a ton of your papers- you’re Hermann Gottlieb, the math prodigy!”

Hermann blushes profusely. “I’m hardly a prodigy- you’ve _heard_ of me?”

“Yeah, dude- you’re huge! You’re, like, practically a rock star!”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “Hardly- and I’m quite surprised someone like yourself has ever heard of me.”

The grin falls off Newt’s face. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I mean- someone in your profession rarely-”

“No, no, I got it. I’m the weird hooker, and we can’t know jack shit about Turing or Euler, _sorry._ ” Maybe he’s overreacting, but Gottlieb seemed like he’d be fun, grouchy but smart and cute, and if he’s an ass, Newt doesn’t need his money. He’s got a weekly date with a guy from the physics department, he’s not exactly strapped for cash. Newt stands and starts to leave, hastily buttoning his shirt as he goes, when Hermann grabs his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I- I made an assumption, and I shouldn’t have.” He grimaces. “I should know better than to...underestimate people.”

Newt looks him in the eye. God damn it, he’s got nice eyes- not like romance novel eyes, but sad puppy eyes. Newt’s a sucker for the sad puppy look. And hey- he actually apologized and sounded like he meant it. That’s the most Newt can hope for, sometimes. “All right,” he concedes. “Only because you’re cute and smart, though.”

Hermann gives him a tiny smile. “I...could say the same for you.”

“Aw, god damn it, you’re one of those ‘grouchy outside, sweet inside’ types, aren’t you? You’re the Mr. Darcy my mother warned me about.”

“Well, I would argue that neither Mr. Darcy nor myself are particularly ‘sweet’-”

“Hey.” Newt drapes his arms over Hermann’s shoulders- not easy, with their height difference, but possible. He presses a kiss to the tip of Hermann’s nose. “Shut up.”

Hermann looks nervous again. “We don’t- we don’t have to. If you don’t want to. I mean, that much is obvious, but I mean to say- we could just talk, and I’ll still pay you.”

Newt makes an exaggerated show of looking like he’s thinking about it. “Hmmm. Y’know, with a lot of guys, I’d take you up on that in a heartbeat. But here’s the thing, Doctor Gottlieb-” He pushes their hips together, and yeah, Hermann’s hard. Good. “I _want_ to have sex with you.”

“What, _really?_ ”

“Well, duh, dude. You’re _super_ smart- like, smarter than literally every guy I’ve ever fucked, and I bang _MIT_ students and faculty for a living. And you’re pretty sexy.”

Hermann stares at him like Newt is profoundly disturbed. “I am _not_.”

“Yeah, dude! I mean, for one, you’ve got this whole strict professor vibe- _very_ hot. Although.” Newt takes the opportunity to push Hermann’s tweed jacket off. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna prefer what’s underneath the grandpa clothes.”

“Wait.” Hermann presses his hand against Newt’s hip. “Your name. I- I don’t know your name.”

“You don’t have to, dude, c’mon-”

“I’d like to know it, if you’ll tell me. Besides, you know mine.” Hermann smiles crookedly. It’s not even a cocky thing, like Newt’s seen some guys do- it’s like he’s honestly not sure how smiling works, and oh _god,_ like that’s not the most endearing thing Newt’s seen all year. “It seems fair.”

“Newton,” he says. “Newton Geiszler- but call me Newt, okay?”

“Newton,” Hermann repeats. “How appropriate. Do you enjoy physics?”

“I prefer biology.”

Hermann rolls his eyes. “ _Really,_ it was an honest question.”

“Wh- no! Honest to god, I prefer biology- get your mind out of the gutter!” Newt laughs suddenly. “Oh my god, _Hermann Gottlieb_ has a gutter mind.”

Hermann flushes, going all pink again, and Newt just _has_ to stand on tiptoe and kiss him. It’s warmer and sweeter than his usual kisses, which cost extra for most people- but Hermann Gottlieb isn’t most people. He’s many things, but he is _definitely_ not “most people”.

The kiss grows heated, and they start fumbling at each other’s clothing, which is tricky- eventually, Hermann has to break the kiss and say, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry- my leg-”

“Oh! Shit, dude, here- sit down, sit down. I got this.” Newt eases Hermann down onto the edge of the bed. He sheds his shirt and pants, down to his boxers, when he straddles Hermann’s lap- he’s skinny enough that Newt can do this without leaning on either of his legs -and starts unbuttoning his shirt. “I gotcha,” he says softly.

When they are both totally unclothed, Newt can see the scar tissue that covers Hermann’s leg, a cobweb of thick, raised lines. He carefully runs his fingertips across them, and the scientist in him wants to ask a thousand questions, but on occasion, he knows when to shut the hell up, so instead he kisses the center of the scars and leans off the side of the bed to dig his lube and condoms out of his jacket pocket.

Hermann is leaned against the headboard, with his bad leg propped up on top of a pillow. “It will be easier if, ah...”

“I can ride you,” Newt says. “No problem, man.” He straddles Hermann’s hips again, holding himself on his knees so he can stretch himself open. “Talk about your work some more,” he says, gasping when he crooks his fingers just right.

“All right. Ah, well- I told you about my lectures, and- and I am writing a paper about how a properly-coded artificial intelligence could be used to, to control large machinery- _scheiße,_ you’re gorgeous.”

Newt pauses and grins down at Hermann, who is _glowing_ with arousal and want. “Same to you, man,” he says. “All right, I’m- I think I’m ready. You good?”

Hermann nods as he rolls the condom onto his erection. He takes the lube from Newt and coats his cock with it. “All right. Come, darling.”

Newt lowers himself onto Hermann’s cock and sighs. “ _God_ , yeah. That’s it.”

“You should talk,” Hermann says. “I- I talked about my work for you. You should tell me about yourself. If- if you like.”

Newt nods as he pushes up and down again against Hermann’s cock. “Well, uh- I was gonna go to MIT, but I got in trouble for- for _fuck,_ some pretty big drug possession charges, _so_ pretty much no college wants me- you wouldn’t think so, ‘cause, ‘cause I’m actually pretty fucking smart, but, uh, I guess IQ scores can only take you so far. But, uh-” He groans as Hermann takes his cock in hand, jerking him off slowly, gently. “Well, I read pretty- pretty much everything, all the time, I’m actually writing a paper on whale brains- _Hermann,_ Hermann, shit-”

He comes in Hermann’s hand, and Hermann comes inside him not much later. They sit together, gasping and sticky and warm.

Newt pulls himself off of Hermann and rolls over to lie next to him. “ _God_ , you’re awesome,” he breathes. He rests the side of his face on Hermann’s shoulder. “You’re definitely the best fuck I’ve had in, like, years.”

“Come to England with me,” Hermann says, and wait, hang on, that seems kinda out of left field.

“Uh- what?”

“Come to England with me,” Hermann repeats. He rolls onto his side- depriving Newt of his shoulder headrest, rude -and takes Newt’s face in his hands. “I- I teach at Oxford, and I’m sure- I’m sure I could get you in, or, or find someone who’ll publish your paper, publish anything you like- come to England with me.”

Post-coital romance. Newt can dig it. “I, uh...I’ve got to do some stuff. Pack up my apartment, tell my parents I’m leaving the state- or, well, the country I guess- but I- yeah, Hermann.” He grins and kisses Hermann’s dumb, excited face. “Yeah, let’s go to England.”


End file.
